Love the concept.
Interested.
Interested.
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New writer, who dis?
Sheet was approved by Olive in PMs prior to posting.
Sheet was approved by Olive in PMs prior to posting.
The Earth fell away beneath their feet.
They were far above the clouds. The blue sky seemingly dissolved away to reveal the familiar expanse of stars as the pair of blue-clad figures began to approach man's own definition of outer space.
"Ekto ra'ay nei lyat moiya," the larger of the two uttered, speaking in a language that was now dead throughout the galaxy. Rendered to just a handful or so of native speakers.
Or not so native, as the case may be. After all, while the Matrix had been operational on Krypton prior to his mission to Earth, the human homeworld was the only one that Kal-El knew. He'd grown up speaking in the human tongue.
It made moments such as this one important for sharing those traditions that may have otherwise died with Krypton. "Ra lyat nei hra tuk," the child-like figure answered, supplying a response that would encourage the conversation to continue.
"Hra sunro..." the man began, trailing off as he seemed to struggle for the right word. Or how to use it in the phrase he wanted to say. "...ra io'akoznecikal nya..." he began, but stopped himself.
"That's not right, is it?" the Superman asked, looking at the impish computer.
"It is not," the Matrix replied, in its usual matter-of-fact manner. A slight head tilt marked a moment where the alien machine seemed to anticipate the need for some positive reinforcement. "However your use of the future tense demonstrated marked improvement," the hologram of the Kryptonian youth supplied.
Unfiltered bursts of the sun's radiation washed over them, as the pair began to emerge from out of the planet's shadow. The hologram of the child flickered away, revealing an amorphous form that seemed to turn to pure gold as its sunstone was pushed outward to collect the energy.
Even while the likeness of the boy had vanished, the voice continued. "I believe that you were attempting to use the human phrase, I will return shortly. However, in our language, you cannot use a statement of fact to describe a possibility. You would state it as an intention."
"My intent is to return shortly," Superman mused aloud, rubbing his chin as he mulled over how to re-phrase that in Kryptonian. Finally, he said, "Sunro nei akoznecikal hra?"
A hologram of a hand appeared, extending one thumb upward in the human gesture of approval."I will, of course, maintain your affairs here until you return," the disembodied voice of the floating solar panel remarked. "I believe that Clark Kent has an interview scheduled today."
"Oh, right, the new county commissioner," the man uttered, revealing the fact that he'd lost track of his own appointments. Looking over at the golden panel, Kal-El said, "Have Jimmy looked it over before you submit the article."
The hologram of the hand flickered again, replaced by an image of a question mark. "You do not believe that my abilities are adequate?"
"Adequate, yes," the Superman stated, holding up one finger as he continued, "But your Kryptonian is better than your English prose."
Drifting further away, the man prepared to take his leave. "Check on Ma for me, too," the Last Son said, before he gave a wave and said, "Back in a bit."
And then he left.
The sunstone panel continued to orbit the planet, reviewing the available articles by award-winning journalists. Lucy Morgan. Jack Reed. Lois Lane.
Its use of grammatical structure was flawless, despite the human English language having many inconsistencies. Obviously, there was a nuance to good writing that was missing from the Matrix's assembled data set. "Noted," the Matrix responded, to no one at that point, as it was now alone.
The solar panel shifted, becoming a blob of purple and gold as it suddenly dropped back toward the planet below. Compressing itself into a ball, the small form sailed through the atmosphere like a comet toward the North American eastern seaboard.
As the ball dropped into the clouds, its shape expanded out into a roughly humanoid figure as the hologram of the boy reappeared to conceal the alien construct.
His course and trajectory ought to put him in Metropolis in precisely eighteen minutes. He was elevating his altitude to avoid any traffic from JFK or LaGuardia, when he registered an electromagnetic disturbance.
Several electromagnetic disturbances.
Cloaking himself, the Matrix vanished from view as he descended sharply to circle back and investigate.
What he found appeared to be a feminine alien being accosted by large figures that could have walked out of Lucasfilm's Creature Shop.
Dropping the cloak, the blue figure with its red cape inserted itself between the alien woman and the approaching figures.
They were far above the clouds. The blue sky seemingly dissolved away to reveal the familiar expanse of stars as the pair of blue-clad figures began to approach man's own definition of outer space.
"Ekto ra'ay nei lyat moiya," the larger of the two uttered, speaking in a language that was now dead throughout the galaxy. Rendered to just a handful or so of native speakers.
Or not so native, as the case may be. After all, while the Matrix had been operational on Krypton prior to his mission to Earth, the human homeworld was the only one that Kal-El knew. He'd grown up speaking in the human tongue.
It made moments such as this one important for sharing those traditions that may have otherwise died with Krypton. "Ra lyat nei hra tuk," the child-like figure answered, supplying a response that would encourage the conversation to continue.
"Hra sunro..." the man began, trailing off as he seemed to struggle for the right word. Or how to use it in the phrase he wanted to say. "...ra io'akoznecikal nya..." he began, but stopped himself.
"That's not right, is it?" the Superman asked, looking at the impish computer.
"It is not," the Matrix replied, in its usual matter-of-fact manner. A slight head tilt marked a moment where the alien machine seemed to anticipate the need for some positive reinforcement. "However your use of the future tense demonstrated marked improvement," the hologram of the Kryptonian youth supplied.
Unfiltered bursts of the sun's radiation washed over them, as the pair began to emerge from out of the planet's shadow. The hologram of the child flickered away, revealing an amorphous form that seemed to turn to pure gold as its sunstone was pushed outward to collect the energy.
Even while the likeness of the boy had vanished, the voice continued. "I believe that you were attempting to use the human phrase, I will return shortly. However, in our language, you cannot use a statement of fact to describe a possibility. You would state it as an intention."
"My intent is to return shortly," Superman mused aloud, rubbing his chin as he mulled over how to re-phrase that in Kryptonian. Finally, he said, "Sunro nei akoznecikal hra?"
A hologram of a hand appeared, extending one thumb upward in the human gesture of approval."I will, of course, maintain your affairs here until you return," the disembodied voice of the floating solar panel remarked. "I believe that Clark Kent has an interview scheduled today."
"Oh, right, the new county commissioner," the man uttered, revealing the fact that he'd lost track of his own appointments. Looking over at the golden panel, Kal-El said, "Have Jimmy looked it over before you submit the article."
The hologram of the hand flickered again, replaced by an image of a question mark. "You do not believe that my abilities are adequate?"
"Adequate, yes," the Superman stated, holding up one finger as he continued, "But your Kryptonian is better than your English prose."
Drifting further away, the man prepared to take his leave. "Check on Ma for me, too," the Last Son said, before he gave a wave and said, "Back in a bit."
And then he left.
The sunstone panel continued to orbit the planet, reviewing the available articles by award-winning journalists. Lucy Morgan. Jack Reed. Lois Lane.
Its use of grammatical structure was flawless, despite the human English language having many inconsistencies. Obviously, there was a nuance to good writing that was missing from the Matrix's assembled data set. "Noted," the Matrix responded, to no one at that point, as it was now alone.
The solar panel shifted, becoming a blob of purple and gold as it suddenly dropped back toward the planet below. Compressing itself into a ball, the small form sailed through the atmosphere like a comet toward the North American eastern seaboard.
As the ball dropped into the clouds, its shape expanded out into a roughly humanoid figure as the hologram of the boy reappeared to conceal the alien construct.
His course and trajectory ought to put him in Metropolis in precisely eighteen minutes. He was elevating his altitude to avoid any traffic from JFK or LaGuardia, when he registered an electromagnetic disturbance.
Several electromagnetic disturbances.
Cloaking himself, the Matrix vanished from view as he descended sharply to circle back and investigate.
What he found appeared to be a feminine alien being accosted by large figures that could have walked out of Lucasfilm's Creature Shop.
Dropping the cloak, the blue figure with its red cape inserted itself between the alien woman and the approaching figures.
"Demolition of buildings in this area is generally inadvisable."
There were quite a number of assailants.
And a number of bystanders at risk. The Matrix was trying to come up with a solution for addressing the multitude of situations with an efficient solution, but this seemed a problem that would benefit from some additional hands.
There were quite a number of assailants.
And a number of bystanders at risk. The Matrix was trying to come up with a solution for addressing the multitude of situations with an efficient solution, but this seemed a problem that would benefit from some additional hands.
With apologies, I'm going to need to step back from this.
Between retiring, trying to get the new house together, and otherwise trying to keep my head just an inch above bankruptcy I simply don't have the energy for posting.
I wish that I did, because I think I had a great arc in mind for Teth.
And because I don't want to post this twice, I'm just going to tag @Retired.
Between retiring, trying to get the new house together, and otherwise trying to keep my head just an inch above bankruptcy I simply don't have the energy for posting.
I wish that I did, because I think I had a great arc in mind for Teth.
And because I don't want to post this twice, I'm just going to tag @Retired.
“First, you will know fear. Then, you will know pain. And then you will die.”
Pausing in the entryway, Sivana turned back.
The man and the boy locked eyes, neither looking away as an uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.
“Finally,” Sivana uttered, at last breaking the ice.
Taking a step back inside, the man adopted a smug look as he spoke. “So, what I understand you to say is that the scepter is a real object – or, at least, it was.”
Looking away from the boy, the man broke the contest of wills – clearly believing his to be superior – as he paced for a moment, before he turned back to declare, “And, just as the legends detail, it was an object of true power.”
Dudley looked from Sivana to Teth, as though waiting for the boy to tell the man that he was mistaken.
He didn’t.
Instead, the boy’s reaction was oddly stoic. In his eyes, he saw not some dude in a suit, but himself. The words being thrown out so arrogantly echoing his own from centuries before.
It was just that sentiment that Sivana seemed to capitalize on. “Power enough that you fear it!” the man asserted, stepping closer to the boy.
Teth said nothing. Because there was nothing he had to say that Sivana was going to want to hear.
Reaching into his jacket, Sivana produced a check, which he pushed into Dudley’s hands as if tipping the butler. As he made his way back to the entry, the man said “Thank you for your cooperation, but spare me your superstition, your majesty.”
It was only after the door had closed behind him that Dudley seemed to remember how to speak. “My God, I have no idea what we’re talking about, but tell me you destroyed that thing,” the old man remarked.
Again, Teth said nothing.
Coming around, the old man sat across from the boy. “Who even made it?”
“I know only who gave it to me,” the boy answered, his eyes coming up to meet Dudley’s briefly, before he stood from the chair with a frustrated sigh.
“It doesn’t matter, Shazam would have...”
He stopped there.
“Teth?”
The boy turned back, hesitating in an odd instance of uncertainty. Something the old man couldn’t recall seeing in the confident youth before.
“Five thousand years, you’d think I would have thought about this before now,” the boy remarked cryptically. His eyes moved around the room, before they found Dudley again as he confessed, “Now, I find I don’t think I ever asked the right questions.”
He and Shazam had never talked.
Their relationship had never been one of cordial interaction. He was the guardian of the Rock of Eternity and Teth was his champion.
The Wizard was the task master. And him? His was not to ask why, but merely to do or die.
Unfortunately, as he’d learned, Teth was bad at either. Which had always complicated the relationship with the Wizard.
“And now I can’t ask him.”
Pausing in the entryway, Sivana turned back.
The man and the boy locked eyes, neither looking away as an uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.
“Finally,” Sivana uttered, at last breaking the ice.
Taking a step back inside, the man adopted a smug look as he spoke. “So, what I understand you to say is that the scepter is a real object – or, at least, it was.”
Looking away from the boy, the man broke the contest of wills – clearly believing his to be superior – as he paced for a moment, before he turned back to declare, “And, just as the legends detail, it was an object of true power.”
Dudley looked from Sivana to Teth, as though waiting for the boy to tell the man that he was mistaken.
He didn’t.
Instead, the boy’s reaction was oddly stoic. In his eyes, he saw not some dude in a suit, but himself. The words being thrown out so arrogantly echoing his own from centuries before.
It was just that sentiment that Sivana seemed to capitalize on. “Power enough that you fear it!” the man asserted, stepping closer to the boy.
Teth said nothing. Because there was nothing he had to say that Sivana was going to want to hear.
Reaching into his jacket, Sivana produced a check, which he pushed into Dudley’s hands as if tipping the butler. As he made his way back to the entry, the man said “Thank you for your cooperation, but spare me your superstition, your majesty.”
It was only after the door had closed behind him that Dudley seemed to remember how to speak. “My God, I have no idea what we’re talking about, but tell me you destroyed that thing,” the old man remarked.
Again, Teth said nothing.
Coming around, the old man sat across from the boy. “Who even made it?”
“I know only who gave it to me,” the boy answered, his eyes coming up to meet Dudley’s briefly, before he stood from the chair with a frustrated sigh.
“It doesn’t matter, Shazam would have...”
He stopped there.
“Teth?”
The boy turned back, hesitating in an odd instance of uncertainty. Something the old man couldn’t recall seeing in the confident youth before.
“Five thousand years, you’d think I would have thought about this before now,” the boy remarked cryptically. His eyes moved around the room, before they found Dudley again as he confessed, “Now, I find I don’t think I ever asked the right questions.”
He and Shazam had never talked.
Their relationship had never been one of cordial interaction. He was the guardian of the Rock of Eternity and Teth was his champion.
The Wizard was the task master. And him? His was not to ask why, but merely to do or die.
Unfortunately, as he’d learned, Teth was bad at either. Which had always complicated the relationship with the Wizard.
“And now I can’t ask him.”
C O U N C I L O F W I Z A R D S
| The Rock of Eternity
“How’s your sanskrit?”
Dudley looked up.
He’d been here before, but each time it was like awakening from a bad dream. His knees and back no longer hurt. When he looked down at his hands, they were no longer pockmarked with age. His midsection was considerably less round, again the fit physique he’d boasted in his prime.
In his reflection, he saw every version of himself, as if shadows overlaid with shadows. A child. A teen. A young man. A hero.
The spectre of his age loomed behind him. A dark page in a book he didn’t want to turn to. A chapter he was afraid to read.
All his wants. The sum of all his fears.
His voice caught in his throat as he tried to speak. “You must be joking,” the man uttered, at last able to tear himself away from everything he was processing.
A book was thrown his way. Catching it, the man opened it to find a script he had never seen before. “What even is this?” he asked, looking over at the boy.
Or, more aptly, at Teth-Adam.
And all the many forms of Teth-Adam.
Like Dudley, one form stood out from the others. It was as unfamiliar as it was recognizable. The same boy, his head shaved. His body shackled, heavy chains weighing him down. Dried blood and scars marking out lines carved into his skin from a lash.
The Big Guy was there as well. Like with Dudley’s aged self, the massive demigod figure loomed over the boy like a menacing phantom – the embodiment of arrogance and pride.
Glancing back from where he was sorting through a stack of tomes, the duality of boy and man answered simply, “That’s aramaic.”
Might as well be Greek to him.
Tossing the book aside, Dudley ran a hand through his hair – and was shocked at the realization he had a full head of hair again.
“Are you looking for a clue about the scepter of Ra?” the man asked. “Why didn’t you just ask the doctor guy?”
“Whatever he thinks he knows, he’s wrong,” Teth, or the Teths, answered.
Dudley gave a shrug, glancing around the enigmatic structure. He’d never been able to make sense out of just what this was. A cave? A castle? A temple?
“...and, I hope it no longer exists,” he heard the Teths utter softly.
The red-garbed figure of the Captain Marvel of the late 70s turned to regard the strange figure. “You really are afraid, aren’t you?”
“I meant what I told the doctor,” the Teths offered simply, glancing through another book before finally looking up to add, “Every word.”
“First you will know fear, then pain, then... something, something death. All that?”
Discarding the book he’d been reading, the blurred form of both child-slave and god-king moved toward another shelf containing scrolls and materials leftover from the Council of Wizards.
“You use the word death to describe a concept of finality - which you ascribe as mortality,” the Teths stated, as he – or they – began to sort through the materials. As he held out one scroll, he noted, “In part, those concepts give people comfort. People say that death is what gives life meaning. But there are some horrors that exist which defy those mental constructs that man has made for his own sanity.”
Folding the scroll in his hands, the odd pair of overlapping shadows seemed to be thinking aloud as he commented, “The Old Man would have destroyed the scepter of Ra. Unless he couldn’t.”
Dudley wasn’t sure that he followed.
Actually, scratch that. He was certain he didn’t follow. “Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?”
The demigod and the slave each turned to give the man a wan smile. “I’m not the Old Man’s biggest fan, but in this I can say with certainty that he’d have blasted that thing to oblivion and back if he could have.”
“You’re saying this thing’s unbreakable?”
Extending one hand, the pair of Teth’s made a gesture that prompted a scroll to suddenly unfurl and fly up in front of the man.
As he looked at it, the text seemed to come alive and transform into something legible to him. As he started to read, Teth explained, “The Council of Wizards wielded power and dominion over the Earth. If Shazam couldn’t destroy it then whatever the scepter is, it’s not of this world.”
Dudley tried to comprehend what he was reading, then just shook his head. This was too foreign for him. He needed to come at this from a different angle.
“Who gave you the scepter?”
The pair of Teth’s didn’t answer.
That was telling in itself. “I’m starting to think we’re in more trouble than I can imagine,” Dudley uttered candidly.
For his part, Teth seemed to incline his head in agreement. “It’s always a friend who hates you the most,” the pair remarked coldly. Then, after a pause, said, “His name was Ahk-Ton.”
“He was your friend?”
“He was my priest,” the pair of Teths answered.
That caught Dudley by surprise, if only because he’d never thought of the boy as being particularly religious.
...excepting, of course, that historically he’d actually been worshipped as a god.
“An exceptionally long-lived one, but I didn’t see it at the time,” the Teths mused dryly. There was a profound sadness that connected the two, the slave and the god. “He played my ego like a finely tuned harp.”
Now it was Dudley’s turn to say nothing, because he had no idea what he could – what he should – have said.
The boy moved on, arriving at a table that he’d seemed to reserve for last. As he started flipping through a leather-bound tome, he seemed to struggle for the first time at Dudley had seen.
Peering around the shadow of the Big Guy, Dudley noted, “That doesn’t look like sanskrit.”
“It’s a form of Canaanite,” the Teths answered.
“Can you read it?”
“Once, maybe. I’m not sure I remember it,” the Teths answered cryptically.
It was the first time that the Old Man could recall the boy suggesting that there was a language he didn’t speak.
“This was the language of my tribe.”
The twin shadows reached out, two fingers gently touching the page as though in an effort to reach and touch a part of their past that had been forgotten.
Then the two looked up. An odd question formed as he asked, “Why did he know it?”
“Who?” Dudley asked, trying to follow. “The Wizard you spoke of?”
“This appears to have been a journal... diary of sorts,” the Teths remarked, flipping forward one page and then back two as he tried to decipher their meaning. “It’s the only thing I’ve found that might have a first-hand account of what happened at Kahndaq, but I can barely read this.”
“But you were at Kahndaq,” Dudley remarked.
“I wasn’t exactly thinking straight in those years,” the pair of shadows answered flatly. “And Shazam laid my ass out, so I was unconscious for whatever happened between him and Ahk-Ton.”
Dudley looked up.
He’d been here before, but each time it was like awakening from a bad dream. His knees and back no longer hurt. When he looked down at his hands, they were no longer pockmarked with age. His midsection was considerably less round, again the fit physique he’d boasted in his prime.
In his reflection, he saw every version of himself, as if shadows overlaid with shadows. A child. A teen. A young man. A hero.
The spectre of his age loomed behind him. A dark page in a book he didn’t want to turn to. A chapter he was afraid to read.
All his wants. The sum of all his fears.
His voice caught in his throat as he tried to speak. “You must be joking,” the man uttered, at last able to tear himself away from everything he was processing.
A book was thrown his way. Catching it, the man opened it to find a script he had never seen before. “What even is this?” he asked, looking over at the boy.
Or, more aptly, at Teth-Adam.
And all the many forms of Teth-Adam.
Like Dudley, one form stood out from the others. It was as unfamiliar as it was recognizable. The same boy, his head shaved. His body shackled, heavy chains weighing him down. Dried blood and scars marking out lines carved into his skin from a lash.
The Big Guy was there as well. Like with Dudley’s aged self, the massive demigod figure loomed over the boy like a menacing phantom – the embodiment of arrogance and pride.
Glancing back from where he was sorting through a stack of tomes, the duality of boy and man answered simply, “That’s aramaic.”
Might as well be Greek to him.
Tossing the book aside, Dudley ran a hand through his hair – and was shocked at the realization he had a full head of hair again.
“Are you looking for a clue about the scepter of Ra?” the man asked. “Why didn’t you just ask the doctor guy?”
“Whatever he thinks he knows, he’s wrong,” Teth, or the Teths, answered.
Dudley gave a shrug, glancing around the enigmatic structure. He’d never been able to make sense out of just what this was. A cave? A castle? A temple?
“...and, I hope it no longer exists,” he heard the Teths utter softly.
The red-garbed figure of the Captain Marvel of the late 70s turned to regard the strange figure. “You really are afraid, aren’t you?”
“I meant what I told the doctor,” the Teths offered simply, glancing through another book before finally looking up to add, “Every word.”
“First you will know fear, then pain, then... something, something death. All that?”
Discarding the book he’d been reading, the blurred form of both child-slave and god-king moved toward another shelf containing scrolls and materials leftover from the Council of Wizards.
“You use the word death to describe a concept of finality - which you ascribe as mortality,” the Teths stated, as he – or they – began to sort through the materials. As he held out one scroll, he noted, “In part, those concepts give people comfort. People say that death is what gives life meaning. But there are some horrors that exist which defy those mental constructs that man has made for his own sanity.”
Folding the scroll in his hands, the odd pair of overlapping shadows seemed to be thinking aloud as he commented, “The Old Man would have destroyed the scepter of Ra. Unless he couldn’t.”
Dudley wasn’t sure that he followed.
Actually, scratch that. He was certain he didn’t follow. “Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?”
The demigod and the slave each turned to give the man a wan smile. “I’m not the Old Man’s biggest fan, but in this I can say with certainty that he’d have blasted that thing to oblivion and back if he could have.”
“You’re saying this thing’s unbreakable?”
Extending one hand, the pair of Teth’s made a gesture that prompted a scroll to suddenly unfurl and fly up in front of the man.
As he looked at it, the text seemed to come alive and transform into something legible to him. As he started to read, Teth explained, “The Council of Wizards wielded power and dominion over the Earth. If Shazam couldn’t destroy it then whatever the scepter is, it’s not of this world.”
Dudley tried to comprehend what he was reading, then just shook his head. This was too foreign for him. He needed to come at this from a different angle.
“Who gave you the scepter?”
The pair of Teth’s didn’t answer.
That was telling in itself. “I’m starting to think we’re in more trouble than I can imagine,” Dudley uttered candidly.
For his part, Teth seemed to incline his head in agreement. “It’s always a friend who hates you the most,” the pair remarked coldly. Then, after a pause, said, “His name was Ahk-Ton.”
“He was your friend?”
“He was my priest,” the pair of Teths answered.
That caught Dudley by surprise, if only because he’d never thought of the boy as being particularly religious.
...excepting, of course, that historically he’d actually been worshipped as a god.
“An exceptionally long-lived one, but I didn’t see it at the time,” the Teths mused dryly. There was a profound sadness that connected the two, the slave and the god. “He played my ego like a finely tuned harp.”
Now it was Dudley’s turn to say nothing, because he had no idea what he could – what he should – have said.
The boy moved on, arriving at a table that he’d seemed to reserve for last. As he started flipping through a leather-bound tome, he seemed to struggle for the first time at Dudley had seen.
Peering around the shadow of the Big Guy, Dudley noted, “That doesn’t look like sanskrit.”
“It’s a form of Canaanite,” the Teths answered.
“Can you read it?”
“Once, maybe. I’m not sure I remember it,” the Teths answered cryptically.
It was the first time that the Old Man could recall the boy suggesting that there was a language he didn’t speak.
“This was the language of my tribe.”
The twin shadows reached out, two fingers gently touching the page as though in an effort to reach and touch a part of their past that had been forgotten.
Then the two looked up. An odd question formed as he asked, “Why did he know it?”
“Who?” Dudley asked, trying to follow. “The Wizard you spoke of?”
“This appears to have been a journal... diary of sorts,” the Teths remarked, flipping forward one page and then back two as he tried to decipher their meaning. “It’s the only thing I’ve found that might have a first-hand account of what happened at Kahndaq, but I can barely read this.”
“But you were at Kahndaq,” Dudley remarked.
“I wasn’t exactly thinking straight in those years,” the pair of shadows answered flatly. “And Shazam laid my ass out, so I was unconscious for whatever happened between him and Ahk-Ton.”
Similar to Web, I've written and re-written my next post about three times and I'm not satisfied with it.
I may skip the intro and try going straight into my first story to see if that helps. I hate handwaving the worldbuilding, but I am just stuck at present.
I may skip the intro and try going straight into my first story to see if that helps. I hate handwaving the worldbuilding, but I am just stuck at present.
Between working on the house and doing the job hunt, I'm behind but should have a Toro post up today or tomorrow at the latest.
“My name is Sivana,” the man stated.
“Doctor Thaddeus Sivana.”
The Dude-in-a-Suit couldn’t have made less of an impression with the pair. Still balancing the stacked laundry baskets atop his head, the young-looking Teth merely continued to regard the man with a mixture of apathy and disdain.
For his part, Dudley seemed to take the more diplomatic approach. “Look, Mister Siva…”
“Doctor,” Dude-in-a-Suit corrected the retired hero swiftly.
It prompted the boy’s eyes to narrow slightly. “I get the sense that’s not a medical degree,” Teth remarked, not bothering to mask the irritation in his voice.
The Dude-in-a-Suit just gave a slight nod in acknowledgement of the boy’s observation. “I have an... interest in certain antiquities,” the man supplied cryptically.
If it was possible, the man was very quickly approaching the limit of Teth’s patience. Which was not a long runway to start with.
“What’s that got to do with us?” Dudley asked, ever the oblivious Boy Scout.
“You? Nothing,” Dude-in-a-Suit answered, summarily dismissing the current Captain Marvel and focusing his attention instead on the former.
“However, I imagine you’re much more familiar with the history I’m researching,” Sivana added, looking directly at the boy as he spoke.
The child’s eyes pulsed with an ominous glow, as a distant roll of thunder echoed overhead.
For the second time, Dudley took a step to insert himself between the pair. Either out of some misplaced sense of protecting Teth, or else because he could imagine the boy turning the Dude-in-a-Suit into a scorch mark on the sidewalk. “What makes you believe that?”
Producing a smartphone, Sivana casually replied, “TikTok.”
As the video began to play on the screen, Teth merely rolled his eyes.
Startled, Dudley tried his question again. “Well, yeah, but what’s that got to do with...”
“Keep watching.”
The video then went sideways. Literally, as if the camera or the one holding it had been thrown through the air. Flashes of light and the sound of something like an explosion could be heard, before Teth’s face briefly entered the frame.
Sivana ended it there, tucking his phone away as he deadpanned, “Rocket science.”
Dudley just blinked. “Well, yes, that did happen,” the Captain Marvel remarked, glaring down at the boy behind him.
For his part, Teth just looked away as if ignoring the whole thing.
“Look, Mister-- Doctor,” Dudley began, stammering over the man’s titles a moment before he said, “Just so we’re clear, we paid for that phone he destroyed.”
“-tch-” Teth uttered, a click of his tongue capturing the irritation as it was his turn to glare at the old man.
It was clear Sivana wasn’t here for any of that. “I want to ask you about Kahndaq,” the man remarked flatly.
The ominous glow returned to the boy’s eyes, as his glare shifted from the old man to the Dude-in-a-Suit.
After an icy silence, the boy finally answered, “Hard pass.”
With that, Teth merely turned and walked away.
“I’m willing to pay for information.”
The boy wanted to keep going, but he could already hear Dudley saying that they could use the money. Any money.
...and he’d be right.
“Enough to reimburse a few more phones at the very least,” Sivana added, as the boy came to a stop.
The boy didn’t look back as he offered simply, “Do what you like.”
Continuing onward, whether Sivana followed or not was of no consequence to him. Though, when it became clear that the Dude-in-a-Suit was following, the boy said, “It’s BYOB though. Old geezer stocks the ‘fridge with RC Cola. Can’t even afford Coke or Pepsi.”
“I happen to like RC Cola!”
“No one likes RC Cola!”
“Doctor Thaddeus Sivana.”
The Dude-in-a-Suit couldn’t have made less of an impression with the pair. Still balancing the stacked laundry baskets atop his head, the young-looking Teth merely continued to regard the man with a mixture of apathy and disdain.
For his part, Dudley seemed to take the more diplomatic approach. “Look, Mister Siva…”
“Doctor,” Dude-in-a-Suit corrected the retired hero swiftly.
It prompted the boy’s eyes to narrow slightly. “I get the sense that’s not a medical degree,” Teth remarked, not bothering to mask the irritation in his voice.
The Dude-in-a-Suit just gave a slight nod in acknowledgement of the boy’s observation. “I have an... interest in certain antiquities,” the man supplied cryptically.
If it was possible, the man was very quickly approaching the limit of Teth’s patience. Which was not a long runway to start with.
“What’s that got to do with us?” Dudley asked, ever the oblivious Boy Scout.
“You? Nothing,” Dude-in-a-Suit answered, summarily dismissing the current Captain Marvel and focusing his attention instead on the former.
“However, I imagine you’re much more familiar with the history I’m researching,” Sivana added, looking directly at the boy as he spoke.
The child’s eyes pulsed with an ominous glow, as a distant roll of thunder echoed overhead.
For the second time, Dudley took a step to insert himself between the pair. Either out of some misplaced sense of protecting Teth, or else because he could imagine the boy turning the Dude-in-a-Suit into a scorch mark on the sidewalk. “What makes you believe that?”
Producing a smartphone, Sivana casually replied, “TikTok.”
“Yo, what up, it’s your boy, SuperFam19, and I’m here in Happy Harbor at a coin laundromat on a tip that sometimes Captain Marvel comes in here to, you know, wash his drawers or whatever, and so we’re gonna... oh, shit, yo. It’s him. It’s totally him.”
As the video began to play on the screen, Teth merely rolled his eyes.
Startled, Dudley tried his question again. “Well, yeah, but what’s that got to do with...”
“Keep watching.”
“Oh, shit, you’re that kid from the YouTube vid. The one where you and Captain Marvel were fighting that giant robot in Fawcett. Dude, are you like his sidekick? OH, FU--”
The video then went sideways. Literally, as if the camera or the one holding it had been thrown through the air. Flashes of light and the sound of something like an explosion could be heard, before Teth’s face briefly entered the frame.
“...I ruled Kahndaq you f*cking plebeian piece of...”
Sivana ended it there, tucking his phone away as he deadpanned, “Rocket science.”
Dudley just blinked. “Well, yes, that did happen,” the Captain Marvel remarked, glaring down at the boy behind him.
For his part, Teth just looked away as if ignoring the whole thing.
“Look, Mister-- Doctor,” Dudley began, stammering over the man’s titles a moment before he said, “Just so we’re clear, we paid for that phone he destroyed.”
“-tch-” Teth uttered, a click of his tongue capturing the irritation as it was his turn to glare at the old man.
It was clear Sivana wasn’t here for any of that. “I want to ask you about Kahndaq,” the man remarked flatly.
The ominous glow returned to the boy’s eyes, as his glare shifted from the old man to the Dude-in-a-Suit.
After an icy silence, the boy finally answered, “Hard pass.”
With that, Teth merely turned and walked away.
“I’m willing to pay for information.”
The boy wanted to keep going, but he could already hear Dudley saying that they could use the money. Any money.
...and he’d be right.
“Enough to reimburse a few more phones at the very least,” Sivana added, as the boy came to a stop.
The boy didn’t look back as he offered simply, “Do what you like.”
Continuing onward, whether Sivana followed or not was of no consequence to him. Though, when it became clear that the Dude-in-a-Suit was following, the boy said, “It’s BYOB though. Old geezer stocks the ‘fridge with RC Cola. Can’t even afford Coke or Pepsi.”
“I happen to like RC Cola!”
“No one likes RC Cola!”
M O U N T J U S T I C E T H E R O C K O F H O M E L E S S S O N S O F B I T C H E S
| 10 minutes later
“Do you prefer to walk? I imagine with your powers that you could have transported us here in the...”
“My gifts are not a parlor trick for your amusement,” the boy answered, his eyes adopting the otherworldly glow as his presence seemed to suddenly fill the room, swiftly silencing the man.
“Nor are they to be taken lightly,” the child-like entity warned, even as he and Dudley welcomed the stranger into their home. Or, at least, what passed as such.
“...including by me.”
Sivana took a moment to regain his cold composure. “Forgive me. On the street, I might have mistaken you for a child,” the man remarked evenly.
“We are, each of us, children in the eyes of someone,” Teth noted in kind.
Sivana seemed to be sizing him up.
“You really are him, aren’t you?” the man uttered after a moment.
Teth’s patience had hit capacity. He rolled his eyes in naked disdain of the man’s awe. “If you didn’t already believe as much, you wouldn’t be here,” the boy snapped.
If Sivana waste his own time, so be it.
His time? Now that was different.
Holding out his arms, the boy hopped back onto a sofa that had definitely seen better days. “So, Mister Doctor, what did you think was going to happen next? For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.”
Sivana’s head inclined, clearly surprised by the boy’s words. Not just the words, but the phrasing. “Shakespeare?” the man remarked, though it was more of a question than an observation. Then, grasping for straws, guessed, “King Lear?”
“Richard the Second, Act Three, scene two,” the boy supplied flatly. Then recited, “How some have been deposed, some slain in war. Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed.”
“A message,” Sivana observed, dropping down into a chair across from the boy. Then, leaning forward, asked, “Or a warning?”
“That depends on you,” Teth answered cryptically, before adding, “Consider your question carefully.”
Sivana just gave a nod, relaxing as he lounged back in the chair. “I’ve been funding an expedition in the southern Sinai peninsula,” the man announced. Then paused a moment as he started to ask, “You’re…”
“I’m familiar,” the boy answered shortly, interrupting the man.
“They think they may have found the temple of... well, that is to say, your temple.”
The boy’s jaw clenched, grinding his teeth as his eyes pulsed with the same otherworldly glow as before.
Retrieving his phone, Sivana began swiping at his screen. “I’ve found a clue in a tablet fragment that I believe may point to the resting place for an artifact from the era of your rule,” the man stated, extending the phone out for Teth to take and inspect.
On the screen was an image of a stone chunk. Some Egyptian writing visible on it, even from where Teth sat.
He didn’t reach to take the offered phone.
“Kahndaq was a utopia of science and magic,” Teth said, keeping his attention on the little man trying to cast a long shadow before him. “There could be thousands of artifacts, some small, some powerful.”
Sivana merely shrugged. “The scepter of Ra,” the man name-dropped casually, returning the phone to his pocket.
A loud clap of thunder echoed outside the mountain.
“Legends say it was forged for your divine ascension,” Sivana continued. Then, looking the boy in the eye, added, “But not by whom.”
Teth was careful not to give any outward reaction. “A gift, I think,” the boy answered. A calculated statement. Then, unconvincingly, said, “I don’t remember.”
Sivana sat back again, clearly evaluating the boy.
“Unfortunate,” the man remarked, giving a click of his tongue before he leaned forward again. “Perhaps you could elaborate on the qualities of this baton? The legends make it quite... fantastic.”
The greed. The lust for power. It dripped from every word. It radiated from the man’s very pores. Grasping at straws, chasing greatness, never satisfied with what he had.
The longer the boy looked into Thaddeus Sivana’s eyes, the closer he glimpsed his own reflection in them.
The boy’s jaw tensed, as he drew a deep breath. Taking a moment to collect his own composure, least he do something Sivana might regret.
“As I said, I don’t recall,” Teth offered when he spoke again.
“I see,” Sivana remarked, not bothering to mask his disappointment.
After a moment of silence between them, the Dude-in-a-Suit stood. “Well, I imagine that should be all,” Sivana supplied, smoothing the front of his suit coat as he started toward the entry.
“You came all this way just to ask about a stick?” Dudley remarked, having watched the entire exchange while nursing a cold RC Cola.
And somehow still missed the actual discussion entirely.
“Yes,” Sivana answered simply, regarding the fat hero for a scant moment before he turned and glared down at the boy. “But I’ve no intention of being lied to, by ancient gods or their regrets.”
“Doctor Sivana.”
The man had taken perhaps three steps when Teth spoke again.
He didn’t look up as he spoke. “There are things that exist which were created in error. Mistakes that cannot be undone,” the boy warned ominously. “Should you go looking for the scepter of Ra, three things will happen. First, you will know fear. Then, you will know pain.”
Finally, Teth turned his head up as he finished the thought.
“And then you will die.”
“My gifts are not a parlor trick for your amusement,” the boy answered, his eyes adopting the otherworldly glow as his presence seemed to suddenly fill the room, swiftly silencing the man.
“Nor are they to be taken lightly,” the child-like entity warned, even as he and Dudley welcomed the stranger into their home. Or, at least, what passed as such.
“...including by me.”
Sivana took a moment to regain his cold composure. “Forgive me. On the street, I might have mistaken you for a child,” the man remarked evenly.
“We are, each of us, children in the eyes of someone,” Teth noted in kind.
Sivana seemed to be sizing him up.
“You really are him, aren’t you?” the man uttered after a moment.
Teth’s patience had hit capacity. He rolled his eyes in naked disdain of the man’s awe. “If you didn’t already believe as much, you wouldn’t be here,” the boy snapped.
If Sivana waste his own time, so be it.
His time? Now that was different.
Holding out his arms, the boy hopped back onto a sofa that had definitely seen better days. “So, Mister Doctor, what did you think was going to happen next? For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.”
Sivana’s head inclined, clearly surprised by the boy’s words. Not just the words, but the phrasing. “Shakespeare?” the man remarked, though it was more of a question than an observation. Then, grasping for straws, guessed, “King Lear?”
“Richard the Second, Act Three, scene two,” the boy supplied flatly. Then recited, “How some have been deposed, some slain in war. Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed.”
“A message,” Sivana observed, dropping down into a chair across from the boy. Then, leaning forward, asked, “Or a warning?”
“That depends on you,” Teth answered cryptically, before adding, “Consider your question carefully.”
Sivana just gave a nod, relaxing as he lounged back in the chair. “I’ve been funding an expedition in the southern Sinai peninsula,” the man announced. Then paused a moment as he started to ask, “You’re…”
“I’m familiar,” the boy answered shortly, interrupting the man.
“They think they may have found the temple of... well, that is to say, your temple.”
The boy’s jaw clenched, grinding his teeth as his eyes pulsed with the same otherworldly glow as before.
Retrieving his phone, Sivana began swiping at his screen. “I’ve found a clue in a tablet fragment that I believe may point to the resting place for an artifact from the era of your rule,” the man stated, extending the phone out for Teth to take and inspect.
On the screen was an image of a stone chunk. Some Egyptian writing visible on it, even from where Teth sat.
He didn’t reach to take the offered phone.
“Kahndaq was a utopia of science and magic,” Teth said, keeping his attention on the little man trying to cast a long shadow before him. “There could be thousands of artifacts, some small, some powerful.”
Sivana merely shrugged. “The scepter of Ra,” the man name-dropped casually, returning the phone to his pocket.
A loud clap of thunder echoed outside the mountain.
“Legends say it was forged for your divine ascension,” Sivana continued. Then, looking the boy in the eye, added, “But not by whom.”
Teth was careful not to give any outward reaction. “A gift, I think,” the boy answered. A calculated statement. Then, unconvincingly, said, “I don’t remember.”
Sivana sat back again, clearly evaluating the boy.
“Unfortunate,” the man remarked, giving a click of his tongue before he leaned forward again. “Perhaps you could elaborate on the qualities of this baton? The legends make it quite... fantastic.”
The greed. The lust for power. It dripped from every word. It radiated from the man’s very pores. Grasping at straws, chasing greatness, never satisfied with what he had.
The longer the boy looked into Thaddeus Sivana’s eyes, the closer he glimpsed his own reflection in them.
The boy’s jaw tensed, as he drew a deep breath. Taking a moment to collect his own composure, least he do something Sivana might regret.
“As I said, I don’t recall,” Teth offered when he spoke again.
“I see,” Sivana remarked, not bothering to mask his disappointment.
After a moment of silence between them, the Dude-in-a-Suit stood. “Well, I imagine that should be all,” Sivana supplied, smoothing the front of his suit coat as he started toward the entry.
“You came all this way just to ask about a stick?” Dudley remarked, having watched the entire exchange while nursing a cold RC Cola.
And somehow still missed the actual discussion entirely.
“Yes,” Sivana answered simply, regarding the fat hero for a scant moment before he turned and glared down at the boy. “But I’ve no intention of being lied to, by ancient gods or their regrets.”
“Doctor Sivana.”
The man had taken perhaps three steps when Teth spoke again.
He didn’t look up as he spoke. “There are things that exist which were created in error. Mistakes that cannot be undone,” the boy warned ominously. “Should you go looking for the scepter of Ra, three things will happen. First, you will know fear. Then, you will know pain.”
Finally, Teth turned his head up as he finished the thought.
“And then you will die.”
A day late and a peso short, but Toro is posted.
For the love of God, someone give this kid a hug.
For the love of God, someone give this kid a hug.
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